


Vanished

by Assumare



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Depression, Happy Ending, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assumare/pseuds/Assumare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dave Strider, and two years ago your best friend Karkat Vantas vanished into thin air.</p>
<p>You've never been the same since.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanished

Karkat Vantas was 17 years old.

He was short, loud, bossy, and always ready fuck someone’s shit up or lift them higher than they ever thought they could be. 

He was everyone’s best friend, he was always yelling and flailing, and everyone loved him for it.

By your junior year in high school, he was still angry, always, but also quieter, more closed off to himself. It was obvious to all that knew him that his anger, his obnoxious nature, was just a shield for his heart, but when he started becoming even more withdrawn, even more insistent on keeping to himself.... You suppose you should have noticed the signs.

You remember that day poorly, unfortunately. Rose told you once that people who go through traumatic events often forget pieces of their memory that have to do with those events as a way to save themselves the pain subconsciously. 

That day was so heart crushingly normal - maybe that in itself was the tipoff. Karkat showed up to school late, pissed, and tired like always, with dark half-circles under his eyes. He grumbled about his parents making him late or something, and you snickered. 

He got... weirdly quiet and introspective in math, although you guess it wasn’t that weird at the time - he did it increasingly often. You asked him what was up, why he didn’t sleep much the night before. He just shrugged you off with some empty, half-witted insult, like usual. You didn’t think anything of it, but now you know how stupid you were, how you should’ve said something.

During lunch, he was quiet while all of you, so ignorant, talked and laughed and ate loudly, unknowingly. You didn’t think anything of it - he did it all the time. He was just so... distant.

You walked home together that day, stopping at the park to sit on the swings and stare at the sky before going to your apartment. You remember that he said something weird, something like, “What would it be like if I was gone?” You remember turning to him, looking at him as he looked away into the horizon, as if he hadn’t said something so worrisome. You searched his face for signs, any sign at all that it was more than just a question and you were unsure. 

“It would suck, that’s for sure. You’re my bro, you can’t leave me alone to cope with the assholes we call friends.” His lip twitched at that but he still didn’t look at you. “Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re not like.” The question was there, a fat elephant sitting on your spine as you stared at his face, wanting answers and seeing a quiet nothing. 

“I’m fine, Dave. Just thinking about life and stuff.” You nodded. Staring at the sky, its vast openness, would do that to you. “Someday I want to just drop everything and go.”

This didn’t surprise or worry you for some reason. How stupid of you. “Yeah? Me too.” You didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it either.

You both went home, to your shitty apartment, played some games, fought over why Luigi was infinitely better than Mario, and ate a bag or more of chips between just the two of you. He laughed. You laughed back. 

It was late. You should’ve walked him home or something, but you didn’t. He grabbed his bag, put the strap on his shoulder. He seemed withdrawn again, or maybe that’s the present interfering with your memory. You told him, “See you later,” as he headed towards the door. He turned, waited for a moment before registering your words and responding - he was already in his head again. “Yeah.” He half-smiled and looked back at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. Your heart jumped. _Cute_.

And then Karkat Vantas walked out of your apartment and your shitty life.

It rained that night, hard. You got a text at one in the morning from Rose. You thought it wasn’t a big deal.

But then he didn’t come to school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. There were search parties, police searching, parents and friends scared and crying. You were all ready to find his body in a ditch.

You didn’t find anything at all, which frankly, was worse.

A few months later, two things were revealed. His step-father let you all know that Karkat left a note addressed mostly to him apologizing but saying that it was necessary, that he needed it and it was for the best. Then, the next surprise came, and it was a punch to the gut for all of you. His step-father suddenly divorced Karkat’s father for becoming too manipulative but worse, for abusing Karkat right under everyone’s nose. He tried to put him in court for it, but without Karkat’s presence, nothing stuck, and the asshole left town.

Everyone, especially Karkat’s closest friends, were shocked and horrified. You blamed yourself, you think everyone did. Why didn’t he tell you, why didn’t he say anything, why didn’t you notice?

It was raining so hard, so long after that night. None of you could help but think the worst. No one heard from him, not a word to even his step-father. You felt angry, or cheated.

After a few more months you all assumed him dead. You held a funeral, sort of. It’s hard when there’s no body and you all agreed not to bury an empty coffin. His step-dad was there, his father wasn’t. 

It rained. You went outside and cried, and watched the sky, trying to see the same horizon he did but knowing that it was gone.

Your name is Dave Strider, and two years ago your best friend Karkat Vantas vanished into thin air.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You’re 19 years old. 

You don’t think about Karkat that often anymore, or at least you tell yourself you don’t.

Maybe someday he’ll fade from memory, but that hasn’t happened yet, and you think it’s the same for the others.

Some days, when it’s raining and the sky looks just right and there’s a fog of gloominess settled on all of you, you get on the subject of Karkat Vantas. Memories of him, what he was like, what he’d be doing now. Sometimes it makes you cry, but you don’t know if he’ll ever stop having that effect on any of you. Rose frowns upon it sometimes, saying that none of you are “letting go,” but the two of you talk late at night sometimes about him, about what he meant for you.

This is coping.

His step-father calls you one day. This isn’t a surprise - he checks in with you guys sometimes, asks you to come over when the house feels lonely to talk to him about your lives. Karkat was so much like him, even if they weren’t in each other’s lives long. It hurts sometimes, and afterwards you sit at home and don’t talk to anyone, lost in your head.

When you pick up the phone, you expect to hear his smooth, deep, friendly voice asking you how things are going, but instead you hear Rose’s curling, classy, usually-devious voice with an edge to it asking you to get to his house as soon as possible. There’s commotion in the background, but you’re not sure if one of the voices is his or not. You try to ask Rose what’s going on, if he’s all right (as usual, she knows everything before you do), but she won’t answer you and insists you get over there as soon as possible.

You’re out the door on your bike before you know it, peddling hard to get there. He doesn’t live as close as they used to - he moved out soon after the divorce, and it’s just as well. You’re not sure you could handle visiting him if he lived in the same house where you and Karkat used to argue, wrestle, make s'mores in the microwave, and smother each other with pillows when his dad would yell at the two of you to shut up.

Your heart is racing, you feel anxious, for Karkat’s step-dad but also like you’re anticipating... something. Something intangible.

You’re jumping off your bike while it’s still moving and leaving it in the driveway before you practically crash through the front door in your haste.

Rose and Kanaya are sitting at the kitchen table, looking into the kitchen and talking to someone there, probably Karkat’s step-dad and Terezi, since you’re hearing her cackle. They don’t seem panicked or anything, so you’re confused what the big deal is, until someone walks into your view from the hallway and stops suddenly to look at you.

Honestly at first you don’t register who it is because you’re just surprised to see someone here you don’t know, but it clicks rather suddenly when your eyes meet his and your stomach drops out, the world falling away from your feet as your knees suddenly threaten to give out. You tense instead, instinctually, painfully. Bracing for a hit that’s already come.

Karkat Vantas stands in front of you, both familiar and unfamiliar, a ghost and yet the most convincing, real thing you’ve seen in a long time.

“Dave!” Rose stands up, the chatter is silent, all eyes are on you but you remain frozen.

He’s taller now, almost lanky, but there’s something about him that’s muscular and almost intimidating, if he were taller. His hair is as wild as you remember, but there’s a tidiness to it that was absent before. He also dresses better, with a striped shirt, jeans, and heavy black jacket thrown on top. His features are stronger, puberty has set in more, and he looks handsome.

Nineteen looks good on him.

You consider telling him that. You consider telling him a lot of things, but for now, you are unmoving. You feel like you’re on sensory overload, or maybe just embarrassingly frozen. Then again, he’s not doing anything either.

You are sad, angry, confused, overjoyed. You’re getting emotional whiplash.

A breath is released from somewhere inside you, and you greedily suck in another one. He still stares at you, warily. 

You take a step towards him and punch him in the face.

There’s a blur of motion as you’re being held back by Rose pushing at your shoulder and his step-dad on the other side, and you don’t ever remember _feeling_ so much, even when Karkat disappeared. You’re yelling, which feels unnatural to your throat, and crying, which feels unnatural in general. You feel like you’re falling apart.

It’s hard to tell exactly what you’re shouting, but it’s something like, “We thought you were dead! Did you think you could just disappear and no one would care about you, you stupid fuck?! You utter asshole, you couldn’t have just called or texted or even fucking emailed /someone/ to tell them that hey, I’m not dead?! We had a funeral for you! Where the fuck were you?!” 

There’s more, there’s so much more, but you’re shrugging off Rose and his step-dad and saying something about needing to cool-off, stomping away before they can say or do anything else. You stalk angrily to the back porch and bring a cigarette out with shaking hands, muttering curses under your breath as you try to light it.

It’s sprinkling, and you can see fog beginning to roll in.

Smoking was a nasty habit you picked up after Karkat’s disappearance. You were feeling depressed, guilty, and stressed, so a nicotine addiction was the perfect thing to direct that towards. You haven’t stopped since, but you’ve tried. Ish. 

It’s not like you want to keep going or that you want to kill yourself, it’s just that at the time you wanted to die, and now you just... don’t care. You guess. You don’t want your friends to lose someone else, but also, it’s hard to want to stop.

You know that Karkat’s step-dad doesn’t approve at all, but he lets you smoke in the back here sometimes and watch the sky in perfect silence. It reminds you of how things used to be.

Watching the sky only makes you angrier today, so you stare at the ground and try not to think. You fail, but you pretend you don’t.

The glass door behind you slides open, but you don’t turn to see who it is. You think you know.

“Dave?” 

You don’t acknowledge him.

The door slides shut behind him as he walks further out onto the porch.

“Dave, I’m sorry. You’re right about letting someone know that I was alive, I should have, but I didn’t.

“Darn fucking right you should’ve. You don’t understand how much I want to punch you in the face again.” You almost do, but you know his dad and Rose are watching from the kitchen window, and you don’t want to start a fight or get kicked out. As much as you would love to scream and yell at him right now, you know the consequence isn’t what you really want.

“Yeah, I get that, I deserve it, I guess.” You scoff, choking back roiling anger. “I didn’t want things to be like this, Dave, and I’m sorry that they did turn out like this. I can understand if you don’t think you can forgive me, and I know you’re going to need time to think this whole thing over, but I’m glad to see you again.”

You turn away further so he can’t see your face - even with your glasses on he always knew when you were upset. In pain, in this case.

You don’t respond to him, just continue to smoke your cigarette. The smoke from it curls into the air and vanishes against the gray sky easily.

“Since when do you smoke?” He breaks the silence that you imposed, trying to get through to you. He does, in a different way.

Your grip on the anger is lost for a moment. “Fuck you. You don’t get to criticize me and act like you care when you fucking walked out of my life like it ain’t nothin’ to ya, asshole.” 

He holds his hands up as if you’re attacking him. You hope he feels that way.

“Hey, I was just asking you a question, I’m not criticizing you.” His eyes are narrowed, and that’s the attitude you missed so much. It’s more mature now, sure, but his perpetually pissed-off nature is still there.

You know he is criticizing you too, but he won’t admit it until later when he can’t help himself.

“Yeah, right. Do you even understand what you did? You can’t just, you can’t just _waltz_ back into our lives like nothing happened!” There’s roaring in your ears, you can literally _hear_ the red-hot rage bubbling up inside you. Your cigarette drops, forgotten for once, and you get in his face, your hands literally shaking from the strength and frustration of your grip in his shirt. “You _vanished_ , Karkat. We thought you were _dead_. There was no sign of you, none, and what did you leave us with?! A flimsy note saying you had to leave and that you were sorry?! We weren’t consoled by a piece of paper, Karkat! We wanted our fucking friend!” Your whole body shakes now, the hot and cold from inside of you and outside from the weather clashes as much as your emotions do and shock your body the same.

You let go and turn around, hands running through your hair. You want to take off your glasses, you don’t want to. Karkat waves the onlookers at the window off. You turn on him again.

“You were _gone_ , Karkat, what were we supposed to do? Why did you do it?” Your voice is embarrassingly high and soft, broken. You’ll feel shame about it later when you’re alone, probably, but for now it just fans the flames. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me or talk to me or something? We were bros, Karkat! We, you were my best friend and you let me just think that you were dead, you just disappeared from my life like smoke? I-I-I,” You’re breathing hard, just, falling apart, really. You stare him down, wanting him to /know/, to _feel_ the same way you did, you all did.

He turns his eyes down, his bright, admittedly beautiful eyes, and runs his fingers through his hair. Something about the motion, familiar and unfamilar, makes your breath catch for a moment (or maybe that’s just you reaching for the right words to say when so many try to flood through, or maybe that’s just you gasping for air, trying to breathe what your body is burning up and drowning you with).

“I, I, I’m in love with you.”

Karkat looks up at you, just as surprised as you are. Your eyes widen, wishing you could catch the words that fell from your mouth. It’s too late though, they’ve escaped, they’re in the air now, floating around and changing everything forever. Why did you say that?

It hangs there for a moment between the two of you - nothing exists for you but a desperate declaration that slipped out, rising with the anger that expanded inside of you.

He sighs, worn and tired.

“No, you don’t, Dave.” 

You take a deep breath again, trying to hold yourself together, but not about to saying anything else and lose control again. 

“You’re just overwhelmed and... grieving.”

You release the breath, relieved. He understands yourself better than you do. You’re glad.

“Yeah.” You nod, eyeing him. “I... I really missed you, man.”

He barks a laugh and looks at the sky, equally relieved and holding back tears. Good ‘ole Karkat.

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

“I don’t forgive you though.”

He looks back at you, blinking away the tears he’s trying to hide he had.

“It’s probably going to be a long time before then, and that really only applies if you’re staying.”

He nods, and looks you right in the eyes despite the glasses on your face.

“Yeah, of course. And I’m definitely going to be here for a while.”

He smiles softly at you, his eyes crinkling at the sides and making his whole face lift.

Your heart definitely does not skip a beat.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You were surprised at how quickly he just fell into your life and became a part of it, like there had never been an absence.

Sure, there were little things that threw you off, like his loud nature in full force like it hadn’t been since middle school, and unfamiliar gestures he must have picked up from somewhere like pulling at his sleeves instead of biting his fingernails.

And he had grown so much. He wasn’t different, not exactly, but he could seriously sit and listen to someone talk for hours, caring and invested in every word, when before he would interrupt and be distanced - not apathetic but just inside his own head too much. He was more physically affectionate too, using bro-fists and hugs and high-fives and shoulder pats and standing so close to you so you know he cared. He would make eye contact with you throughout conversation, when before he could never even look someone in the face for a full second, and it was both intimidating and open and rewarding and just-

It was like getting to know someone you thought you knew already.

But before you knew it he was wrapped up in your life. Or maybe you were wrapped up in his? Nearly every day you would wake up late, look at some music you were trying to make or help produce, go to work, receive a phone call or a text and you would visit at his step-dad’s house and talk about anything, everything, and then go home, rinse and repeat. You talked about how mad you were at him, where he had gone, why he had left, why you weren’t going to school right now, how some of his old friends were doing.

This was the closure you never got.

Your anger dwindled. 

You understand why he did it, as much as you possibly could, but it would never change the fact that you had been hurt by him not talking to you and by him just leaving. 

One day, when you were both beginning to relax in your pool of lukewarm truce-hood for the sake of attempting to mend what you could of your friendship, he asks you how you had handled his disappearance.

Your anger, your distrust that this was real or that Karkat was staying rises up violently again and you laugh in his face.

“Handled it? Are you kidding? Do you know our friends, dude? We were, we were kids, even know we’re still kids, and our best friend who was holding us together vanished into thin air and it was _our fault_.”

He opens his mouth to interject but you cut him off - you need to get this off of your chest, it’s not like you’ve been waiting two years to say it to his face or anything.

“No, you don’t get to speak right now, you asked and I’m answering. We fell apart as a group, most of us jumped ship when transferring high schools and went elsewhere, and we barely keep in contact even now. We survived but just barely, okay, because how could we live with ourselves when we thought you were dead and gone because we didn’t have the fucking tenacity to ask you what the fuck was up! We talked about you all the time, we had lost our friend but we were okay because we had to be. I don’t know about everyone else but when I said I was okay and I was coping I was /lying/! How could I ever live with myself when I wasn’t here for you like you were for me, how could I be goddamn _coping_ when it was _my fault_! You were my _best friend_! My life hasn’t had meaning since you decided to walk out of it!”

There you go, putting your foot in your mouth again.

Karkat is shocked, eyes wide and staring at you. It makes you want to hit him again, because what, did he seriously think that him disappearing would have absolutely no effect on the people around him at all?

You breathe for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose. That came out sort of wrong.

Well, not wrong, because it’s not like it wasn’t true, but you wanted to express that in a calmer, less-incriminating way (although he _should_ feel bad he left) and maybe omitting some of that.....

“Listen. I’m getting better now, okay? But I was pretty apathetic and depressed and self-destructive for a while because I was really fucked up from the experience and didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Dave...”

“You probably shouldn’t respond to anything I said. In fact, it’d be better if you forgot it. What babbling nonsensical angry tirade? I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Dave, stop. It’s okay.” 

He reaches over and puts a hand on your arm in a supportive way. 

Damn his supportive elbow-holding and his unpreventable caring attitude.

“I spent those two years trying really hard not to think about how you and the others and my step-dad might have been affected, and I think in doing that I managed to convince myself that you didn’t care in the first place. I’m really glad you told me that, I needed to hear it. But I need to make sure you know that it wasn’t your fault.”

You huff. You open your mouth to say that of course you know that, but instead what comes out is, “But as your best friend I should have known that something was up and stopped you, or asked you what was going on, or _something_.”

“Dave. It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t want anyone, especially you, to know what was going on at home and I would have done anything to get out of here. There’s nothing you could have done. And even if you don’t believe that, it is certainly not your fault anyway - the only one who can truly hold any blame at all is my asshole of a father who decided his time was well spent terrorizing his own kid.”

You swallow hard. Even though you doubt the blame you hold will never go away, that was exactly what you needed to hear from exactly who you needed to hear it from and some kind of weight that you didn’t know existed has just been lifted from your shoulders.

He stands up and hugs you, conveniently allowing his shoulder to hide your face as you try not to cry.

He doesn’t let go until you feel warm all over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You show him around your apartment for the first time. 

Your relationship has progressed into a tentative friendship. You want to call him your best friend, since now you’re hardly seen without the other and you spend much of your time talking to him, but you can’t let go of a small wisp of cool air inside you that tells you it’s only a matter of time until he leaves you to your self-destruction once more.

He remarks that your apartment suits you and doesn’t look that different from your old room. You think you would have felt a stab of nostalgia for that comment if it weren’t for the smile that accompanies it.

You lead him to your room and he smirks at the familiarity.

Your heart definitely leaps, your stomach swimming in circles for some reason, and you silently chide yourself for acting this way. You never used to act this way /before/ he left. Or did you? While contemplating how you acted with Karkat before his disappearance he moves from admiring your dead-stuff collection (you have dead stuff like small skulls and feathers and bones all over your apartment, actually, and it’s super awesome) to your turntable.

You can’t remember if Bro gave you that godly one before or after Karkat left. You’re going to try to not remember under the suspicious that it was a pity gift given to you in the hopes that you’d stop being so upset about everything all the time, but instead you just became depressed.

“Do you still make music?” He turns to ask you as you try to nudge some dirty dishes further under the bed with your foot. (You only had time to clean a _portion_ of the apartment, okay? Also, you have a system to your messiness and you didn’t feel like dealing with the repercussions of trying to clean up while you’re in the middle of an artistic breakthrough.)

“Do I? Dude, listen to this. Prepare to have your very soul explode out of your body from the sheer orgasmic beats about to rattle your bass-starved eardrums.”

“That sounds violent.” He jokes, but nonetheless sits down on your bed as you quickly load your newest project onto your computer and set up your amazing sound system.

He ingests it like he does everything else he’s going to criticize later, with his eyebrows pulled together almost in a frown but really just in deep concentration, which is both relieving and nerve-wracking. Relieving because he cares enough to take this thing that is really important to you and that you’ve been working really hard on seriously, and nerve-wracking because he’s seriously paying a lot of attention to it and maybe this wasn’t the best choice to have him listen to after not hearing anything you’ve put together in the past two years, which is when you got good anyway. The only break in his expression is the eyebrow raise and brief eye contact with you when the vocals kick in.

After the song ends you try not to fiddle with anything or twitch in a nervous way.

“Um...”

Karkat is blinking, and then wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

...Is he - ?

“Dave. That was incredible. That was- That was seriously brilliant, but-” _Fuck_. “Was that about me?”

“Uh...” You fail and tug on the bottom of your shirt, as if there’s something interesting on it when obviously the most interesting thing in the room is Karkat. “Sort of? Yeah. I mean, I was going through a really tough time and I was getting really serious about my music a while ago and I thought it would help and be therapeutic-” Or maybe just more self-destructive, it was totally a gamble that you didn’t give a fuck about taking. “So actually the whole album is about you? Or something?”

Karkat blanks at that, and you try to not interpret the dead air as a bad thing.

“It’s really good so far, the album is actually almost done already, I just need to finish the last song. The album is going to be called Knights of Glory. I hope that’s not, uh, I hope this isn’t weird or something.”

Karkat is just looking at you with big eyes, and your heart is definitely sinking because this definitely feels like a bad thing. 

Finally, Karkat decides to just put you out of your nervous-fidget hell and coughs awkwardly, before squeaking out, “Can I hear it?”

It’s your turn to blank this time, but your body seems to subconsciously decide this isn’t the time to put your foot in your mouth again and moves your mouth for you.

“Hear what, the album?”

He nods, and you start from the top of the album and sit beside him, handing him a box of kleenex and not-awkwardly joking that “The whole thing is good enough to make anyone and everyone cry, even the coldest and angriest of hearts.”

He cries for every song and you find his head on your shoulder by the time the last one repeats.

Your face feels warm, and you hold yourself back from fulfilling the itch to get working on the last song because you think you know what could make it sound right.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Karkat moves in with you.

It’s really only temporarily since you’re actually considering college now into your future, or at least pursuing music as a career, plus your apartment is very small, plus Karkat just wants somewhere to stay other than his step-dad’s place and he hasn’t had much luck in finding a place so far. If he likes your apartment he might move in after you move out, if you go to college somewhere far and need to move.

You’re trying not to think about what that would mean for you and Karkat. Technically, nothing is keeping you to this town anymore - most of your friends are away at college anyway, including Rose, and now that Karkat is back your desperate hope he would return has come true so... really, why are you still here? But if you move it could damage the relationship you and Karkat are slowly putting together.

Like you said, you’re trying not to think about it.

You get into a fight with Karkat when he moves in, which is about the smartest thing you could have possibly done.

Karkat needed help moving and so a friend of his borrowed a truck and is helping him move. The problem? This friend knew Karkat when you didn’t. They know each other because this friend looked out for Karkat and travelled with him and blah blah blah when Karkat was gone, and he even helped and encouraged him to come back.

Basically, this friend got to do everything for Karkat you couldn’t and Karkat actually listened to him and liked him. As far as you can tell, he’s Karkat’s best friend, and you sort of hate him for that.

So seeing this friend helping him move sort of set you off a bit, especially when you see first hand them joking around and clearly knowing each other super well and shoving their bffsies in your face.

“Karkat, I don’t see what the big deal is! I just don’t like the dude!”

Karkat rolls his eyes at you, and this is one of the first times you’ve seen him have the level of explosive anger since he got back, which somehow makes you angrier knowing that it’s because you don’t like his friend.

“Sollux can be an asshole, yeah, but he’s just like that! So are you! In fact, you made way more insulting ‘jokes’ while he was here than he did, so you better fucking check yourself before you start judging someone I really trust and care about!”

Ouch. Karkat didn’t mean to imply that he doesn’t trust and care about you, but you kindly decide to take the blow anyway.

“Oh, you really trust and care about him, huh? I suppose that’s why you two were fawning over each other basically the entire time. I’m surprised you’re not Facebook official yet. Next thing we know, you’re going to be popping out babies like no one’s business!”  
Holy fuck, what are you even saying right now.

“What?! Sollux and I- Augh! Sollux and I are not a thing! We’re not together! I am not remotely interested in that piece of trash with eyewear even more ridiculous than yours and a lisp! Is that what this is about?! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Dave! This isn’t a very good way to welcome your new temp roommate, maybe I should just call Sollux right back here so I can move back into my step-dad’s!”

“Don’t call Sollux, listen. I just think you could do a lot better, okay! I’m just looking out for you! I don’t trust that guy!”

Karkat’s eyes narrow, and you recognize that look - it means you’re about to Get It.

“No, you listen, Dave. I’ve known Sollux for a lot longer than you have so I think I know whether to trust him or not. Sollux might be sort of a loser, but definitely no more than you are and he’s actually a great guy when he wants to be. I brought him here today because I really thought you guys could get along but clearly I was wrong when I thought you could get over your misplaced opposition to him that only exists because he’s my best friend and he became that way when he looked out for me and you couldn’t. I’d really appreciate it now if you would let me move in, and if you didn’t doubt my fucking choice in friendships again, asshole.”

He steps closer to you, making you startle into the counter and cornered.

“Also, your future apology is accepted.”

And then he pulls on the front of your shirt, kisses you on the mouth, and stomps away.

Meanwhile your heart is beating 100 beats per minute.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You and Karkat go to the park, _your_ park, for the first time.

Going back and sitting on the swings talking about anything and everything with Karkat feels just like when he got back - familiar and unfamiliar.

You look at the horizon in silence with Karkat when there comes a time where you don’t need or even want words (for once) to express this feeling. 

The gray sky reminds you of standing on Karkat’s step-dad’s back porch, smoking, the way that the horizon looks from that view, the day he came back and how the smoke from your cigarette vanished into the air, blending into the background of the sky, while Karkat was there and wanted to talk to you and missed you maybe even as much as you did him, and how angry you were.

You turn to Karkat, and he turns to face you too, his gray eyes ever paying attention to what you have to say, no matter how stupid it’s going to sound as soon as your thoughts are put into words. He was looking at the horizon, your horizon, too.

You want to smile.

Instead, you say, “I’m in love with you.”

He blinks at you for a moment, and then smiles.

“I know. I’m in love with you too, smartass. Now I can’t even say it first.”

You laugh because of course he wanted to say it first, he’s Karkat Vantas, and he probably wanted to do some kind of elaborate romantic gesture with it, which although sweet would almost positively go wrong somehow.

He lightly punches your arm for laughing at him, which of course just makes you laugh more.

You can’t help but forget any thoughts of cigarettes and gray skies in front of you because his eyes are enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You’re lying on your bed, cuddling with Karkat and lazily making out. 

Karkat and you are going to college _together_. Not wanting to be consumed entirely by your relationship, you’re going to separate colleges, but nearby at least, so you’ll still be able to spend plenty of time together. You aren’t living together your first year either, but you hope to get another apartment in the area of the colleges after then.

You know you should be worried, and you’re sure you both will be later, but you’re not. You think you deserve a little bit of luck now, and you have a feeling the two of you will be together regardless for a very long time.

The horizon, which you can see out your window as you make out, grounds you - you don’t think either of you will be vanishing from your problems anymore.

The last song on your album, a love song, plays as you slowly kiss each other into a happy oblivion.


End file.
